


Piggy in a Box

by ACreativeNameWasTaken



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Doomsday didn't happen, Gen, Hybrid!Technoblade, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sbi are a Thing, no beta we die like wilbur, pandora fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACreativeNameWasTaken/pseuds/ACreativeNameWasTaken
Summary: Dream held out his hand"Got any withers?""Nah m'good."Green man was NOT happyTake a green man with a fragile ego, a box of his own design said to be inescapable, and a Technoblade, and here you go!
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 101





	1. A pig has fallen into a trap in Lego city!

The day Technoblade disappeared was one not soon forgotten. 

It was in the way Philza would feverishly tend to the long-abandoned farms, his eyes lacking that wise, kind spark of a well-travelled adventurer. It was in the way, when his name was mentioned, the conversation would fall silent. It was in the way that if one were to visit the decrepit cottage in the snowy tundra on the right day, you would find a child poking around, searching for something that couldn’t be found, his sapphire eyes a dull grey. 

It was in the way that the Prison loomed over them all. 

No one wanted to admit it. No one wanted to acknowledge it. The prison had been there for a year, and the only people they had seen enter and exit were Sam and... Dream. Besides that fact, it had been common knowledge that despite his cunning, his planning and scheming, there was no way that Dream could beat Technoblade in a fight. 

Right? 

Philza knew better than most, the Piglin had been bred to fight. He knew from the moment he found a child, battered and bloody but still fighting with everything he had in that Hypixel underground fighting ring. Despite his only communication being Piglin grunts, it was on display, the fire in those ruby red eyes. The way, despite his best efforts, Phil couldn’t even get close without being met with growls for MONTHS. After so long growing close, and two more additions to the family, Technoblade had found his home in Hypixel once more- in a slightly more legal way that is. As the Blood God, a merciless warrior that had never once needed use of a respawn star- after all- Technoblade never dies. When his brothers asked for aid to reclaim their lost nation, to spill blood for the sake of an overblown passion project, of course the warrior would be there in a heartbeat. Despite his time spent away, spilling crimson in his wake, he would drop it all in a heartbeat for the family he had found. Anything, anytime, anywhere, he would follow them into hell itself. He was born there, after all. He had never known defeat. 

So, when Philza came home after a long day of assisting Tommy and Tubbo in the expansion of L’Manberg to find an empty house, he wasn’t worried. Not in the slightest. 

After a month, however, he began to grow worried. 

It took another month for the worst to come to mind. Phil began a server wide search; no stone was left unturned. He searched with a feverish passion, even as his search party was slowly reduced to himself and, on occasion, Tommy. 

It was a year before he gave up his search. In his heart, his soul, he knew the answer to his search. There was no other place he could be. As Philza spent his days holding onto what his friend, his SON left behind, he spent just as many glaring at those blackstone walls that he knew contained a Piglin. He spent just as many planning, plotting and gathering for a prison break that he knew was almost impossible. After all, despite his years of added wisdom, there was no-one as strong as Technoblade. And if he, the Blood God, couldn’t tear this prison down from the inside, how could Phil make a dent from the outside? 

“Why did Dream ask for that prison to be made?” Tubbo asked airily one day, turning to Sam with wide, innocent eyes. After a laborious day of helping with Tubbo’s small redstone project, and many, many desperate attempts to get Tommy listen to his instruction- this was the last thing Sam had expected to hear from the child. He could see both Tubbo and Tommy’s focus entirely on him as he formed an answer that would please them. 

“Well... Dream thought it would be a good... Contingency plan. In case someone tried to disturb the server’s peace.” 

“But couldn’t he just kill them?” Tubbo asked quickly, Sam narrowed his eyes, very quickly- had the redstone project been a ploy to get him out and tired? 

“Well... Yes. But the prison could serve as a good example for any future,” Sam paused again, “insurgencies. If Dream managed to imprison his most powerful adversary, no one else would even try, understand?” Sam was starting to get worried; he knew they suspected what the prison contained, he knew EVERYONE suspected. 

He just didn’t think anyone would be brave enough to confront him on it. And as much as he wanted to boast proudly of his wonderful creation, one that could even contain THE Technoblade, with no method of escape, allow people to visit and witness his marvel of redstone and ingenuity- thinly veiled threats from Dream of the consequences of doing so lingered ever-present in his mind. 

“You wouldn’t want your status as a half mob being... accidentally revealed, would you?” 

The world was not kind to half breeds. 

Feeling sweat form on his brow, Sam stood up to stretch. 

“Welp! I better be off; it’s been a long day huh? Let me know if you ever need more help. Oh! And Tubbo?”   
“Yeah?” 

“A piece of friendly advice, if you’re curious about the prison? Don’t be.” 

He left the two boys in silence and headed back. 

\-------------- 

Technoblade woke up to see a wall of obsidian. The soft glow of lava cast over him. 

Heh? 

The warrior remained still, attempting to sense anyone else in the room with him and, in finding no one, began to wrack his brain for how he could’ve ended up here. 

Woke up in his own bed- no. Breakfast with Phil, eggs- no. Checked up on Carl and his other various pets- no. Headed to the spider spawner for a couple hours to grind out xp- no. Tended to his potato farm- no. Checked his food supply, he was a couple stacks short of what he’d like to be- no. Set off to his neighbouring village to trade for his favourite, golden carrots, and traded until he had stocked up, ignoring the villagers shaking hands- fear was common in the presence of the Blood God- they must’ve just been slightly more anxious because of his newly reacquired Axe of Peace dangling from a holster on his side, so as Technoblade took a gleaming carrot and ate it, and a feeling of drowsiness promptly washed over him, and he fell in the snow, and wait what? Heh? 

\----------------- 

Dream had never been happier. Sure, L’Manberg was rebuilding, but that was to be expected, leaving Tommy and Tubbo to their little passion project- a far cry from the actual danger it had posed under the iron fist of a capitalist ram, or the fiery force of expansion that had been Wilbur Soot. And besides, if they ever stepped out of line? He had gotten himself an Ace in the hole. 

It had been a long, slow process, taming the beast. But by Mojang had it been worth it. See, seasoned warriors are kind of known for their will of steel, so first thing’s first, you break their will. And what better way than to put them in an inescapable box? Dream had known it would be hard from the moment he had opened the lava curtain to have a... Friendly chat with his prisoner. Only to be met by non-committal hums and a look in Techno’s eyes that Dream knew meant he was observing, taking in every little detail to formulate a plan of escape. Dream could barely contain his glee from behind his porcelain mask. 

This was going to be FUN. 

Apart from your more run of the mill torture methods- starvation, sleep deprivation- yaknow the usual, all of which had barely any effect on the Piglin, Dream soon realised he wasn’t imprisoning a mere human, he had a beast in a cage. And he should probably treat it as such, right? After weeks of research into Piglins- their culture, anatomy, their desires, something clicked in Dream’s mind. The piercings that lined Techno’s ears, the small band around one of his tusks, the crown, all of which he had so graciously allowed Techno to keep (had been reluctant to remove in case they were a contingency for if Techno were to get knocked out, perhaps administering a shock), they were made of gold. And not just any easily mined overworld gold. They were Piglin gold. So, when the curtain of fire rose once more, Technoblade did not expect to be met by a splash potion of Rest. And, despite his best efforts, sharp nails- claws almost- digging into his palms until they bled, he slept. 

Only to wake up to quickly find that all his gold, HIS gold, was gone. 

Dream knew he had succeeded a week later, as the observers in Technoblade’s cell showed the Piglin pacing, only stopping to eat and sleep, for hours on end. Sometimes Techno’s hand would wander to his head, grasping for something that wasn’t there, and oh did Dream relish the pained look on his face as pink hands found empty air. He was visibly stressed, a far cry from the calm, composed, calculating warrior that had been there before. And just like that Dream knew that his plan was all too possible.


	2. Child has a Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has the utmost confidence in The Blood God  
> Tommy? Not so much

Tommy was a passionate kid. Ask anyone who’d spent more than five seconds in what the blonde would describe as his glorious presence and they’d tell you that he had a fire in his eyes that never seemed to go out. 

I mean, until it went out, anyway. 

There’s something about being kicked out of the home you basically founded by your best friend, losing everything and everyone you cared about, and being psychologically tortured and manipulated by a smiley green asshole that can kinda get a fella down, you know? Which is why, when Tommy finally collapsed outside Techno’s house, down nine hearts and a shoe, he was all but ready to give up and let the snow take him. Apparently, fate had other ideas. As his piglin brother, after traipsing home weary and sore (an anvil and literally being rebirthed can do that to ya), came upon a trembling child and despite his better judgment, reluctantly carried the gremlin into the warmth of the humble cottage where they would spend months healing the wounds left behind by war. Even after betrayals, withers, and exile, a brother is still a brother. And both the piglin and the child refused to lose another. When Tommy finally left to return to fight for his home once more, he left with his head held high and the respect of a brother. The light in his eye was a blazing bonfire as he felt the Axe of Peace on his back surging with strength, the blessing of a warrior who saw a man willing to fight for his home. 

Tommy had been welcomed back, surprisingly. Given enough time Tubbo had found his footing as a leader and refused to bow to the tyrant shadow king Dream’s demands. The country had regained his spark in the form of two children, facing an unforgiving world hand in hand. And, finally, the people of L’Manberg felt like it was truly home. Much to a certain Green Boi’s chagrin. 

Dream had tried to convince Technoblade to join him in one final battle. To finally destroy the country that had killed his brother, betrayed his beliefs, sent an army after him, and executed him without trial. But, as much as Tommy’s stay with Technoblade had put wings in the blonde’s sails and taught him the worth of strength and companionship, it had done much the same for the piglin. And where he had once seen a looming threat, he saw friends, he saw the finally peaceful home that Wilbur had fought and died for, he saw something that, although he couldn’t agree on every aspect, was a true community. Hope in such a bleak server, he realized, was something to be protected. And so, as the warrior faced a hopeful tyrant, hand outstretched, he had only one thing to say. 

“Nah, m’good.” 

Safe to say Dream was livid. 

\------------------- 

Tommy was determined to find Technoblade. It didn’t take long for people to give up the search, but Tommy and Phil, a determined brother and a worried father, they would never give up. They knew that Technoblade was in that fucking prison. 

The only course of action, of course, was to break him out. 

Phil had the utmost confidence in his piglin son to stay strong within those Blackstone walls, after all, they had seen each other through war, famine, hell even world domination, he had seen Technoblade cut through armies, farm for weeks on end with little to no rest, he built a CASTLE for fucks sake, in Phil’s eyes Technoblade was just as much immortal as he was. 

Tommy was much less confident. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t think Technoblade was strong! Quite the opposite, Tommy had looked up to Technoblade since the day he was adopted, even as Techno unleashed withers on his home and screamed about heroes and Greek myths, even as Tommy felt the pang of betrayal that he knew so well form a vice grip around his soul, he saw the brother he always admired in place of the battle-hardened warrior. 

But Tommy also knew Dream. 

He knew how Dream could worm his way into your head, a parasite. Convince you to turn on your own mind with honeyed words so sweet they made you sick. How he could condition your mind to bend to his sick whims. After all, he had experienced it for months on end, almost being driven to end his own life in front of an audience of none, alone and isolated in those god-forsaken plains. 

Tommy knew Technoblade was strong, but he also knew Dream. 

As Phil paced and worried away at the prospect of his son being beaten in a fight by Dream, worried that he was losing strength by the day, Tommy’s concerns ran much deeper. They could pour all their effort into a prison break; they could tear Pandora’s box apart brick by brick, but Tommy would wake up in a cold sweat from the nightmare where obsidian walls would give way, and behind them would be someone he couldn’t even recognize as his brother. And he would wipe away the moisture that had gathered on his forehead as Dream’s laughter still echoed through his mind. 

Technoblade was the strongest person Tommy knew, and he could only hope he could hold out. 

“Hold on Techie, we’re coming.” 

\--------------- 

It only took 48 hours straight of watching old Hypixel recordings, televising their star fighter- the Blood God- for something to click in Dream’s mind once again. As Technoblade cut through enemy after enemy, a smile brandished on his face, he would sometimes stop. And lick his weapon clean of blood. Now, an untrained eye may see this as a display of power, a bit of showmanship to keep the audience on their feet. He was the Blood God after all. But Dream saw it in the way that the time in between these gory displays were almost always the same. As if something in the Beast had gotten... hungry, in the time between feasts. He saw it in the way that the beast’s tongue would lap up the crimson like something possessed, thorough in its cleaning of the weapon- not a drop left behind. 

Blood for the Blood God, huh? 

\-------------- 

Technoblade knew his situation was precarious. He knew that being constantly on edge would wear his mind, no matter how many times he bit his lip or dug his claws in slightly too much to keep himself grounded. How dare he. That smiley green fuck. He took his gold. His gold. That he had found and crafted and enchanted and worn with pride through hundreds if not thousands of battles, that had been adorned with the blood of millions except his own. His gold. His gold. His gold. H iS gO lD. He bit his lip hard enough to taste iron. 

Technoblade knew that he was barely holding on, and he was ashamed. He had spent so many years taming the beast that raged in his mind, for the sake of Phil, who had so mercifully taken him under his literal wing and, for the first time in the scrappy piglet’s life, shown him peace and kindness. For the sake of Wilbur, who had a scar on his shoulder from the last, hopefully ever, time Techo had lost control. He had had an iron grip on his mind for so long. He was so, so tired. What if he just let go? Just for a little while, let himself see red. Finally, relaxed. Mojang how he yearned for that release. But what would Phil think? What if he hurt someone he cared about... again. Technoblade clenched his jaw and forced himself to focus, he wouldn’t let Dream win. Not now, not ever. He would escape, he just had to bide his- 

He could smell blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bro I'm so bad at pacing I will actually cry


	3. A Man with a Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil finally confronts Sam  
> Lucky for the creeper hybrid, living for hundreds of years makes you quite a reasonable man.

Sam had been avoiding Phil. He knew it, Phil knew it, hell even at the mention of the man Sam grew fidgety, and of course, no one could forget the time Phil entered a room and Sam flung himself out of the window, almost claiming Tubbo’s final life in his laughter. Though it is to be expected that you cannot avoid someone as vigilant as Philza Minecraft forever, especially considering the man could literally fly. And much to his chagrin, this was exactly why Sam found himself cornered by the kind fatherly man, who now seemed so imposing. 

“I know you have him.” 

Sam was very much weighing his options, he could tell the truth and risk death, or lie and risk death. 

Both seemed equally unappealing. 

“H-have who?” Shit, he didn’t mean to stutter but he had heard tales of the Angel of Death, general to the Blood God. Destroyer of empires. Creator of Minecraft. He saw the way Phil’s wings were spread wide to block any chance of escape and the creeper blood within him was a match to a fuse, his entire body felt submerged in pins and needles as he tried his damnest to not just explode. 

This task was made exponentially more difficult as Philza approached him faster than his hand could graze the hilt of his axe, his breath hitched in his throat as he was held against a wall by his scruff, Philza’s face so close to his own that he could see the dark purple bags that formed under his aged eyes, the stress lines cut across his forehead, and despite their very close and very dangerous proximity, Sam felt a twinge of guilt twist in his gut. Sharper and more painful than any weapon Phil could point in his direction. He could see a tired father looking for his son. Sam hoped that if there really was a God in Twitch Prime heaven, he’d let him in. 

“Yes, I have him.” 

“Let. Him. Go”, all of Sam’s instincts screamed danger, but his desire to help, serve justice, his morals were stronger. 

“Phil, if I could, I would. But it’s not up to me. Please Phil, you don’t understand the... The predicament I’m in.” Sam closed his eyes, bracing for impact. A fist, a sword, something, ANYTHING. But nothing came. He cracked his eye open and saw Phil looking at him, not with rage, but with pity. 

“They’re blackmailing you, eh mate.” Phil released a heavy sigh as he released Sam from his vice-like grip and stepped back. Sam was so taken aback that he didn’t even consider escape. 

“Wh- How do you..?” 

“I’ve been on this earth for a long time mate, I know a hybrid when I see one. I mean I am a hybrid for fucks sake.” Philza chuckled at his own words, mirthless but still friendly. 

Sam genuinely didn’t know what to say. He had always assumed that Phil’s wings were simply an advanced or modified elytra, not even entertaining the thought that the man may be a true hybrid like himself. Honestly the fact that someone knew his secret but still treated him so normally had him flood with relief. Phil was a smart man. If he somehow managed to attain inside information there was a change Dream wouldn’t be able to trace it back to himself. Bringing forth what little was left of his pride, Sam made his choice. 

“Dream is holding him in the main cell. He has a plan although I’m not sure what it is. All I am able to do is deliver him food from a safe distance. Dream tried starving and other forms of basic torture but I assume they didn’t work as Technoblade now receives a healthy amount of food and water. Dream seems pleased with the situation, though. So I can only assume whatever he is trying to do is succeeding. Technoblade is very much alive, but I can’t elaborate on his physical or mental state. The only person who has truly seen him since he was imprisoned is Dream.” Sam talked slowly, allowing Phil to absorb every word with a slow nod. The avian was deep in thought. 

“So there is nothing you can do.” It was more of a statement than a question, but Sam still thought it suitable to respond. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry Phil.” Sam felt tears prick the corner of his eyes, his powerlessness in this situation was something someone as strong as Sam rarely experienced, making times like this hit much harder than they should. 

Right at that moment, as Sam and Phil stood in despair, Sam heard his communicator ping; it was Dream. 

I need you to start delivering the prisoner health check-ups, first aid. He’s of no use to me if he claws himself to death - :)

“Phil?” 

“Yeah mate?” 

“I have a plan.”


	4. Rawr xD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam does first aid.  
> GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF INJURIES - TW  
> :)

_“Daddy?”_

_Phil blinked open eyes filled with sleep, squinting as the light from the doorway filled his vision, a small figure, barely a quarter of the doorway high, stood clutching a stuffed polar bear. Glancing out the window at the moon, Phil decided it was just past midnight, simply opening his quilt to the child, who took this as a signal to get in._

_The child was shivering, but not from the cold, Phil could feel a wet patch spreading on his shirt from the child’s tears. No matter how many times they did this old routine he still felt his heart break a little more every time he heard and felt a sob wrack the child’s body. He was so, so small. He didn’t deserve this._

_Despite knowing the answer, Phil gathered his courage: “another nightmare, mate?” He started stroking the child’s head soothingly, hearing his breath slow down bit by bit. He felt the child nod._

_“That’s okay, wanna sleep in here tonight?”, there was no response. Phil continued rhythmically stroking his head until he heard the soft wheezes of a child asleep._

_Raising a piglin child had its challenges, but he could overcome them all. For Techno._

\----------------- 

Sam couldn’t help but hold his breath as the lava slowly receded. He hadn’t donned his best netherite gear in a long time, but his fear of the warrior greatly outweighed his desire to keep his ornate set intact. Dream’s words played at the back of his mind, what could he have meant? 

“I need you to start delivering the prisoner health check-ups, first aid. He’s of no use to me if he claws himself to death - :)". 

Sam’s hands worried away at the hilt of his weapon, tapping the rhythm to an old nursery rhyme his mother used to sing to calm his nerves. He steeled himself, he had made this warden persona for a reason he had to be infallible, intimidating. The lava finally entirely receded, and his nerves were quelled slightly by the sight of something pink under a thin sheet, slowly rising and falling with its breath. He stepped onto the platform, knowing that the pistons would most likely wake the piglin up. 

As he neared the cell, Sam’s fear was replaced with confusion, Technoblade wasn’t waking up. He crept over to where the piglin lay, his breath hitching in his throat. 

The blanket was blue, last he checked. Why is it now red? 

Sam’s warden instincts overtook him, his job was to guard, sure, but another of his responsibilities was to care for those imprisoned here; another wave of fear washing over him as he thought of what Dream may do if he found out he failed at the task assigned to him. As Sam gently peeled back the sheet, he almost gagged. Technoblade was covered in awful gashes, almost as big as Sam’s fist. Some dry and scabbing, touched by hints of oncoming infection, some new and still bleeding, the smell was beginning to build. Sam’s eyes glazed over the entirety of the warrior, tracing the gashes back to Technoblade’s tusks, coated in a thick sheen of red, as well as his hands, almost claws in much the same condition. 

Sam let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, “Oh Prime, Technoblade, what has he done to you?” He didn’t expect an answer, and so could only look on in numb shock when Technoblade’s eyes snapped open, his pupils, pinpricks meeting Sam’s own eyes. Everything was still, neither said a thing. Until Technoblade pounced, pinning Sam to the floor, snarling. 

Sam couldn’t recall ever hearing Technoblade snarl in battle. 

Fear gripped him and he felt his armour giving way to the sheer strength of the piglin’s hands pinning him to the floor. His arms weren’t an option, he couldn’t reach his weapon. How could he fail so easily to someone unarmed? Sam met the piglin’s eyes once more, silently pleading for his life as the words got stuck in his mouth, dry with mortal fear. 

Had Technoblade’s eyes always been that shade of red? 

The moment stretched on for what felt like forever, Sam paralysed with fear staring up at a snarling beast, blood still dripping from its arms and pooling on Sam’s armour, the attack aggravating new wounds and reopening old ones. Sam heard himself whisper. 

“please.” 

The beast’s eyes widened, as he threw himself off of the now trembling Sam, his weapon finally able to be unsheathed although Sam’s hands made no movement. Stunned, he could only watch as the piglin scrambled into the corner of the room, his head clutched in his hands, scratching and scraping. Technoblade let out a loud, animalistic whine, and Sam, despite the attack only seconds before felt a pang of sympathy. He slowly approached Technoblade, crouching down to meet eye level, one hand reaching out in peace offering, one hand on the hilt of his weapon. 

“I’m here to help. You’re very injured, Technoblade. You’re in Pandora’s vault, the prison. I need you to calm down so I can help, I need you to trust me.” 

Nothing was reaching the piglin, he seemed to be in an entirely different world. Sam had an idea. 

“Phil sent me.” 

Technoblade was silent, his hands frozen clutching his head, blood trickling down where his nails had dug in the most. His pupils grew, eyes welling with tears. 

“Ph-Phil?” 

“Yes, Phil. He misses you very much Technoblade, but to see Phil again you have to let me help you. If your wounds aren’t treated you’re going to die, please. Phil needs you, Technoblade.” Sam used the moments of calm to get his first aid kit from his inventory, he barely had enough bandages to cover one arm, let alone his other arm, head, or any injuries he may not see yet. He had never seen the warrior look so weak, not when betrayed by Tommy, surrounded by enemies, not up on that podium, crossbow loaded in the face of a child, honestly the sight of Technoblade like this was incredibly unnerving. No gold, no weapons, no royal splendour, just... A piglin, tired, weak and injured. Technoblade turned to him, his face saturated with defeat, dark purple bags ringing dulled eyes, a single nod Sam assumed was permission. 

They sat in silence for hours as Sam cleaned and bandaged every wound meticulously. Now wasn’t the time for strategizing, the piglin needed some semblance of peace; Sam only wished there was more he could do in the moment. Sam didn’t meet Techno’s eyes, even as he turned to leave. 

“Is there anything you want me to tell Phil?” 

There was no response. Sam watched the lava curtain fall, sealing the piglin in his cell once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too happy with how this one turned out but honestly nothing could come close to the beautiful angsty picture in my mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to expand on a one-shot I made ages ago because Prisoner Technoblade is my jimmy jam.
> 
> Feel free to follow my Tumblr @acreativenamewastaken, there are other ways to support me there if you enjoy my work! :)


End file.
